


A Prologue

by NotASpaceAlien



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ancient Times, Books, Gen, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASpaceAlien/pseuds/NotASpaceAlien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Crowley tries to show Aziraphale one of humanity's new inventions, the angel initially scoffs at him despite his eventual love of reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/126968459380/what-about-crowley-teaching-aziraphale-to-read

It was hot out today, and Aziraphale was sweating, which was still a relatively new sensation to him.

Aziraphale found a small pool at the end of town and gratefully bent down in front of it, splashing the water on his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the Guardian of the Eastern Gate!”  


Aziraphale looked up, startled, to see a man lounging on a stone wall above him.  There was a pile of some beige blobs next to him, and he held one in his hand.

“Oh, hello, Crawly,” said Aziraphale cautiously.  


The serpent swung his feet around and leaned over so that he could face Aziraphale.  “It’s Crowley now, I told you that.”

Aziraphale ignored the protest and eyed him.  “I don’t suppose you’re here for anything but causing trouble, are you?  I’ll chase you off if I have to!”

Crowley gave a small laugh.  “Angel, the only thing I’ve ever seen you chase is a meal with some alcohol.”

Aziraphale felt blood rushing to his face.  “You’re one to talk.”

“Have you seen these?” Crowley said abruptly, showing him one of the beige lumps he had.  


Aziraphale politely examined the object.  “No, can’t say that I have.  It’s…?”

“A clay tablet,” said Crowley.  “You really hadn’t noticed?  The humans are starting to keep written records of things.”  


“Written?”  


“Mmhm.  They take a bit of reed and carve symbols into clay.”

He offered the tablet to Aziraphale again.  The angel touched it now and scrutinized it, his eyes scanning over a baffling succession of lines and triangles and squares arranged with enough precision that they obviously had some sort of meaning, but Aziraphale could not imagine what it was.  


“I don’t understand,” said Aziraphale.  He vaguely recalled that some of the angels had symbols on their bodies signifying rank or role, and wondered if this could be something similar.

“They just make these symbols a certain way, and other humans will know what they mean.”  


“I don’t…but how do they know what they mean?”  


“It’s like a code they’ve all got memorized.  It’s the same as how we know words like ‘wing’ and ‘sword’ refer to specific types of objects.  It’s just they’re pressed into clay instead of being spoken aloud.”  


Aziraphale couldn’t help but think that such a concept couldn’t possibly be practical.  “But you have to memorize what every single symbol means–that would take forever!  Humans don’t have that kind of patience.”

“Is that humans you’re talking about, or yourself?”  


Aziraphale knew he had been insulted now.  It was one of the first times he had actually noticed one of Crowley’s subtle jabs, and he twisted his face into a scowl.  “I don’t appreciate that.  This sounds just like the kind of thing you’d be interested in.  I suspect you’re already using it to spread sin and chaos.”

Crowley looked at the pile of tablets he had.  “In a way, I suppose.  I _did_  steal these ones, and they _were_  the only copy he had.  But-  Isn’t it just- interesting, I suppose?  I wanted to see just _what_  they were writing on all these things.  Aren’t you curious?”

Aziraphale finally took the tablet Crowley had in his still-extended hand.  “I suppose.  But it’s not like I know how to interpret any of this.”

There was a poof of dust as Crowley jumped down from the wall, his hand closing around the other end of the tablet.  “Look, this symbol is _na_ , and this _bal._ I’m not sure what this all means, but I’ve figured out that this part over here means _Heaven,_  and this part is talking about the goddess _Ishtar_.”

“I should have known it would be something pagan,” said Aziraphale sourly.  “Tempting people into idol worship.”  


“But Aziraphale–it’s not.  It’s a story.”  


“A story?”  


“ _Gilgamesh_.  It’s about heroes fighting the gods.”  


“That never happened, you realize.”  


“That’s the point.  It’s just a story.”  


“Why would they write down something that never happened?”  


Crowley looked down at the tablet.  “I’m not sure.  It’s…certainly interesting though, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale looked back up at the wall and realized Crowley had an entire pile of tablets, that he suddenly wanted to know what was on those ones as well… and that he had an urge to take them, just as Crowley had taken them, and save them for himself.  He turned his attention back downwards.  “What did you say this symbol was called again?”


End file.
